Monster - A. Lee Martinez [56]
Ed turned on the radio, tuning it to a classic rock station. It didn’t seem right to hear someone whistle along with Led Zeppelin, but Ed managed to pull it off.
Judy kept her eyes forward. She kept her whole head forward. Trying to turn it only encouraged Ferdinand to tighten her grip. Judy watched the minutes tick by on the digital clock in the dash. Twenty-two minutes later, the minivan pulled into the driveway of an unassuming two-story house. It was well kept but unremarkable, with little to distinguish it from its neighbors, all of which were identical in nearly every way. Same fence, same yard, same arched roof and stone walkway to the front door. They were different colors at least, though obviously the list of approved colors was limited to shades of green and blue.
This house did have one noticeable difference. Cats. And lots of them. A dozen roamed the front lawn. They all perked up to watch the minivan enter the garage. There was something in their eyes, an eerie sense of expectation, that didn’t register right with Judy.
Ed turned back and flashed a toothy grin at Judy. “Okay, we’re here! Everybody out!”
They exited. “This way, please,” said Ed.
Ferdinand released Judy, who saw her chance. She dashed for the nearly closed garage door. With some luck, she could roll under it and run to one of the nearby houses. This was a suburb. She had a decent shot of finding some help out in the open.
A red cat slinked under the door, into Judy’s path. It meowed, spitting a gout of flame. Judy jumped back to avoid being burned, and the door lowered shut with a metallic finality.
“Thanks, Pendragon.” Ferdinand seized Judy roughly by the wrists and twisted her hands behind her back. Judy struggled, mostly for the sake of her pride.
“That wasn’t very nice, now, was it?” asked Ed.
They followed Pendragon into the house. There were more cats inside. Lots of them. None breathed fire, though. She wondered if that was because they were normal cats or just well trained. Her captors hustled her through the house too quickly to see many of the details, but what little she did see reminded her of her grandmother’s house. Except this place smelled like gingerbread, not cigar smoke. She didn’t spot any velvet Elvis paintings either.
They shoved her into a room that was trying way too hard to be charming. It was all blue and pink with shelves screwed into the walls. All too small to hold anything useful, just knickknacks and commemorative plates. The entire history of the Napoleonic Wars and the Broadway musical career of Ethel Merman were on display. A thriving rubber plant sat in one corner.
“Stay here,” said Ferdinand.
“I’m really sorry,” said Ed, “but we’ll have to lock you in. I don’t really feel right about it, but, well, y’know… after what you just did, I’m afraid you’ve left us no choice.”
They shut the door, leaving Judy in her cell. She flopped down in a padded armchair and propped her feet on an ottoman. She spotted a kettle of tea along with two cups on the table beside it.
The plant’s leaves rustled. A pair of cats, one white, one gray, slinked out from behind the rubber tree and rubbed against Judy’s ankles. The gray one jumped into her lap, and she scratched it between the ears.
“Hello,” said Judy, half expecting the cats to say something back.
The door opened, and an elderly woman with long gray hair entered. She wore a casual flannel top and a pair of slacks. Nothing fancy. She looked eighty, but she glided across the room like a ballet dancer. Poised and graceful was the only way to really describe her. Despite her wrinkled skin, she brimmed with vitality. But she wasn’t very big. Judy figured she could push the woman down and run past her without much problem. She tensed at the edge of her seat.
Pendragon trotted in after the woman. The red